


Make A Meal Of You

by Qzil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cannibalism, Cooking, Domestic Bliss, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Sexual Roleplay, Threesome - F/M/M, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4901596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qzil/pseuds/Qzil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam and Castiel notice that their girlfriend has been a little down, they decide to surprise her with a dinner party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make A Meal Of You

Castiel really hoped that Meg would like her surprise.

“Ready?” Sam asked. Castiel nodded as Sam tested the ropes one more time before he left the bunker’s kitchen. Castiel shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable on the bunker’s table, but then gave up. The wood was hard against his bare back, his spine at entirely the wrong angle, and he knew that by the end of the night his muscles would be burning, but it was worth it.

Meg had been more violent than usual lately, especially in the bedroom. She had always saved her sharpness for Castiel and her softness for Sam, careful not to draw blood on either of their bodies when she was with the younger Winchester. But with Castiel she could be violent without worrying about causing permanent damage, without worrying about accidentally getting him addicted to demon blood, and Castiel loved being the one to bear the brunt of her violent streak. He loved waking up in the mornings with welts on the backs of his thighs and long, deep scratches on his chest that took hours or even days to heal, even on him.

But her violence had escalated, and Sam, having shared a head with Meg and knowing her violent impulses, had suggested the perfect surprise for her: A dinner party. He and Meg had both had experiences in Hell, and due to their brief time in each other’s heads combined with that, Sam knew a few things about her that even Castiel didn’t. Namely, that she, her father, and her brother had engaged in cannibalism a few times over the centuries, and that she had always looked forward to their special dinners.

Now that they had formed a new sort of family, Sam thought that they should continue the tradition, in a sort of way. He couldn’t be the main course. He was too fragile, too human, to endure having pieces cut out of him and cooked. Meg was off the table as well. If Sam couldn’t have her blood, then he most definitely could not have her flesh.

That left Castiel.

There had been no evidence that the consumption of angel blood or flesh could corrupt a human, or even a demon. That meant Castiel had to be the one to lie down on the table, and he was more than happy to do it.

It had taken a bit of work to keep their plan a secret from Meg, and it had taken a lot of work to get Dean out of the bunker for a night. He had never approved of Castiel and Sam entering a relationship with Meg, but all it took were the words ‘weird sex stuff’ and Dean was out the door with minimal protesting, off to find a simple salt and burn or a bar to eat up his time until morning.

Afterward, Sam had simply banished Meg to his bedroom while they prepared her surprise. To Castiel’s constant confusion, Sam was the only person that could order Meg to do anything and have her actually do it half the time, and mostly without complaint. Once Meg was safely behind closed doors, the two of them had set to work, Castiel stripping out of his clothes while Sam grabbed the rope from the closet and got out everything that Meg would need. Neither of them had ever prepared human flesh before, and while Meg wasn’t one to take on traditionally feminine duties, Castiel knew that she would not protest when it came to cooking _him._

After that, Castiel had simply climbed up onto the table, positioned himself on his back, and allowed Sam to stretch his arms out, tie his wrists to his ankles, and wind a gag around his mouth.

Hearing footsteps, Castiel forced himself to lie still and look up at the ceiling.

Meg’s voice floated down the hallway. “Sam, I still don’t understand why you wanted me to wear _this._ I’m all for roleplay, but the fifties housewife thing is a bit weird.”

“Humor me,” Sam told her. “Humor both of us. We have a surprise for you.”

Sam had decided that, since the bunker had closets full of vintage clothing, they may as well make the occasion a bit more formal, and a bit more fun, by dressing up in some of the outfits that he had pulled out. Castiel was sure that Sam could get Meg into one of the dresses, and if her words were any indication, he had done it. The two of them had worked the scenario out beforehand, and Castiel knew that Sam would fill Meg in on the bare bones of it on the way.

Castiel chanced a glance in the direction of the kitchen’s door and saw Sam leading Meg into the room. Her dark hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and she was wearing a dark blue dress with white polka dots and an open collar. The skirt of her dress fell to her knees, and there were large white buttons down the front. Her short, white heels matched her outfit, and small, round white earrings and a string of pearls around her neck completed the ensemble. Sam had wound a blindfold around her eyes to lead her into the kitchen. For his part, he had also changed into one of the old suits that he had found around the bunker. The fit wasn’t exact, but the dark material suited him.

Sam caught Castiel’s eye. Castiel returned his gaze to the ceiling.

Sam dropped Meg’s hands. “Alright. You can take the blindfold off now.”

Meg did, excitedly untying the scrap of material and looking around in anticipation. Her eyebrows drew together in confusion when she saw Castiel trussed up on the table wearing nothing but his skin.

She looked between Sam and Castiel. “Are we playing serial killers and victim?”

Sam smiled and pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Better.”

She stared at him, confused, for another moment before she saw the cookbook lying on the counter and her eyes lit up with happiness. “Really?”

Sam took her hands again. “Really. I thought we could dress it up a little, too.” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m going to grab a beer and watch some TV. Call me when dinner’s ready?”

“Hard day at work, Mr. Winchester?” Meg teased. Whenever they roleplayed, Meg would jump into whatever they were doing. Castiel was glad that he was the one tied up and gagged, because it usually took him a little longer to get into the role.

Sam’s eyes sparkled. “The hardest. You should’ve had dinner ready when I came home, Mrs. Winchester.”

“I’ll do better tomorrow, I promise.” Meg stood up on her tiptoes to reach Sam’s face, but even then he had to stoop to reach her.

Sam leaned down to whisper something in Meg’s ear that Castiel couldn’t catch, but he could tell that he was saying something serious to her by the way she nodded and looked over at him. When he was finished, Sam gave her a long, sloppy kiss and left the room.

Meg turned her full attention to Castiel. Humming, she walked around the table, fingers delicately tracing over his bare flesh. “Where to start, where to start?”

Castiel tried to say something through the gag. Meg made a small, frustrated noise and pulled it out of his mouth.

“Apron,” he told her. “Don’t want to stain your dress.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “You’re not supposed to talk, Cas. Sam said he cleared everything that was gonna happen with you already.”

“He did. I just don’t want you to stain your dress.”

Meg huffed and reached for the starched, white apron that Sam had thrown over one of the chairs earlier. Pulling it over her head, she tied the straps behind her back and posed for him. “Good?”

He nodded. “Good.”

“Good. Now shut up. I’ve gotta figure out what part of you I can take off and cook.” Meg gave him a quick kiss and pushed the gag back into his mouth. “Dinner doesn’t talk.”

Castiel nodded. He had, after all, been given the easy role of dinner. All he had to do was lie there and get eaten. They had played serial killer couple and helpless victim before, with each of them taking turns being the helpless victim that got tied up and tortured, and Castiel preferred to be the one tied up. It was a fun way to spend the evening, and those nights were usually the ones that left welts and cuts all over his body for days afterward.

Meg continued to hum as she opened the bunker’s fridge and combed through the other ingredients. Depending on what she made to serve with him, it could take hours for dinner to be ready. Meg closed the fridge and picked the cookbook up, flipping through it and glancing at different parts of his body as she muttered to herself.

“Can’t do potatoes. No time for potatoes.” Meg shook her head. “I swear, Dinner, he should’ve told me he was coming home early. Now I have no time to make something nice and he’s acting like it’s my fault. I sure hoped he bathed you before he trussed you up. Because I don’t have time to wash you if he wants dinner on time.”

Castiel had, in fact, bathed before Sam had trussed him up, and had even rubbed himself down with some spices.

“Stew would be nice, but that would take too long as well,” Meg continued. “Maybe a side of rice? Or some beans? He’s always saying that we don’t eat enough vegetables. What do you think, Dinner? What would you like to be cooked with?”

She shot Castiel an expectant look. He obligingly began to struggle and plead through his gag. Meg winked and returned to perusing her cookbook, smiling when she reached a page she liked. She turned the book so he could see.

“Simple and tasty,” she said, tapping the picture of steak surrounded by carrots, potatoes, and green beans. “I think the potatoes will be worth the wait. If the hubby complains, then we can tell him that he can’t expect a good dinner if he comes home early without calling. Let that be a lesson to him.”

She winked again and pulled cans of potato chunks, carrots, and green beans from the cupboard. Castiel relaxed. His muscles were already starting to protest, and he had a horrible itch on his nose that needed scratching. Dinner would surely last a while, but it would be shorter if Meg were using canned vegetables instead of peeling potatoes and preparing the carrots by hand.

Meg reached over and scratched his noise, as if sensing his discomfort, and rummaged around for a can opener and bowls. Once the side dishes were ready for the microwave, she set up the skillet, took the spices she needed from the cabinet, and reached for her knives.

“Alright, Dinner,” she said cheerfully. “Time to pick which part goes in the skillet. What do we want to eat today?” Meg ran the tip of her knives down his chest and legs, gently stroking his flesh. “Arms? Thighs? Maybe belly? Or would my husband like some nice rump?”

She ran the cold steel down his cock, sending a shiver through his body. He could regrow whatever she cut off, and easily use his powers to staunch the bleeding when she did cut into him, but he really, really hoped that Meg would not choose _that_ part of him to eat. _That_ would take a while to grow back, and it meant no sex for at least two weeks while it was healing.

But the knife passed harmlessly past that part of his anatomy. Meg smiled and moved the knife back up to his chest. “Do you think my darling husband would mind if I had a bit of a taste before the main course?”

Castiel clamped his teeth together as Meg dragged the knife across the skin just under his nipple. The wound bled freely, and Castiel moaned against the gag when Meg lowered her head to the cut and lapped at it. Her mouth was lined in red when she smiled up at him, and there was a slightly glazed look in her eyes.

“Some arms, some thighs, I think,” she said, raising the knives again. “Sit still, Dinner. It’ll only take a couple of minutes.”

Castiel braced himself for the first cut. Meg hummed to herself as she went around his body and sliced deep, pinning back skin to get to the meat underneath it. He screamed through the gag and felt involuntary tears gather in the corner of his eyes. Meg wiped the tears away and dug deeper into his flesh. A chunk of it came free with a wet sucking sound, and Meg made a small noise of satisfaction and dropped it on the small plate she’d brought over with her.

“Shush, Dinner,” she singsonged when he screamed again. “My husband’s a big man. He needs big portions. Normally I like the skin, but I just don’t have the time to get all this hair off. You are doing so well, though. Barely any thrashing.”

Castiel relaxed when Meg took the last piece of meat from his body. None of the chunks were very large, just big enough for a few mouthfuls. There were open wounds weeping red and raw all down his arms and legs. Blood poured from the wounds and pooled on the tabletop. He saw that her snowy white apron was liberally splattered as well, and he was glad that he had told Meg to wear it so she wouldn’t ruin her dress.

Meg continued humming as she slapped his flesh down into the skillet. It sizzled with whatever she was cooking it with, and the smell filled the small kitchen.

“Smells good, right?” Meg asked as she moved the meat around in the pan. “What do you think, Dinner? Smell good?”

“Whatever you’re cooking smells great in there, honey!” Sam called from the other room. Meg giggled and sprinkled something into the skillet.

“Hear that, Dinner? My husband thinks you smell great.”

Castiel had to agree that his flesh did actually smell appetizing. Neither he nor Meg needed to eat, but he enjoyed the occasional foray into human food, and he knew that Meg took great pleasure in eating. For a moment he regretted that he was playing the meal instead of Meg’s husband or the housewife, because he found that he was curious as to what he tasted like. He hoped that either she or Sam would take pity on him and remove the gag long enough to either feed him a piece, or save some leftovers for him to try when the game was over, if they didn’t eat everything.

He could feel his torn flesh knitting itself back together as Meg worked. She bustled all around him, pulling dishes from cabinets and rummaging for wine glasses. He knew that there were different wines that went best with different foods, and he was curious as to what wine Meg would choose to go with human flesh.

He watched as Meg finished cooking and neatly divided the flesh into two plates along with the potatoes and vegetables. She placed one near his head and the other at the opposite end of the table, between Castiel’s spread legs. To finish dressing the table, she pulled two long, tapered candles from the cupboard and set them on either side of him. When they were lit, she dimmed the lights in the room, set out the silverware, and stripped out of her blood-splattered apron.

Meg grinned. “Showtime.”

Castiel winked at her as Meg walked over to the door, opened it, and called Sam into dinner. He wondered how much flesh Sam would actually eat, and when he stretched his neck to glance between his legs, he saw that there was only one piece of meat on Sam’s plate, while Meg’s was piled high with flesh. Truthfully, Castiel didn’t expect Sam to eat any of the meat at all. He had been a blood drinker, yes, but that didn’t mean he was a cannibal.

“Honey, dinner’s ready!” Meg called. She dimmed the lights and straightened her skirt as Sam walked into the room, a smile on his face.

He bent down to kiss Meg’s cheek. “It smells delicious, dear. Dinner cooperated?”

“Less struggling than I expected. You did good when you picked him. His blood tasted delicious.”

Sam moved around the table and pulled Meg’s chair out for her. He tilted his head down at Castiel, as if asking him if he was okay. Castiel nodded back just before Meg sat down and thanked Sam.

They talked over dinner. Sam and Castiel hadn’t gone over much beyond the basics of the meal, but he and Meg seemed to be able to jump into their roles at a moment’s notice. Sam invented a whole other life for them. By day, he was an insurance salesman and Meg was a housewife. By night, they were serial killers. Sam told her made-up stories about made-up coworkers that Meg laughed at over the wine, and in return Meg told him about playing cards with made-up friends and going grocery shopping.

“You know, darling, I think Dinner looks a bit hungry,” Sam commented, pushing his vegetables around on his plate. Castiel noticed that he avoided mixing them with the juices that seeped from the piece of meat on his plate. “Maybe you should feed him.”

Meg smiled down at Castiel. “Would you like that, Dinner? Would you like some food?”

Castiel shook his head. Meg delicately cut a small piece of flesh away from the last bit of meat left on her plate and pulled his gag down. He continued to protest, but opened his mouth for her when Meg held the fork to his lips.

“I think you taste delectable, Dinner. It would be a shame not to try yourself before we finished butchering you and put you in the freezer,” Meg told him. She was gentle when she slipped the fork into his mouth. Castiel closed his lips over it and pulled the piece of himself off of the prongs.

Pepper and other spices exploded on his tongue along with cooking juices. Meg had always been fond of rare meat, he knew, and she had taken care to make sure that the center of her meal was cool and pink when she cooked the flesh she had taken from his arms and legs. Despite that, it was tender and easy to chew, and Castiel could feel his own power radiating from the flesh in his mouth. He wondered what the grace infused in his blood was doing to Meg, if it would hurt or help her demonic self.

Meg stuck her fork through her last piece of meat. “Another, Dinner?”

Castiel nodded eagerly and opened his mouth. Meg licked her lips as she watched him chew, a slightly glazed look in her eyes, and Castiel swallowed hard.

“Honey, you haven’t eaten any of your meat,” Meg pointed out. She pouted at Sam. “Don’t you like my cooking anymore?”

Sam cut into his own piece and held his fork out to Meg. “Maybe I just like to feed you.”

Meg giggled and stood to lean over Castiel, replacing his gag as she went, and closed her mouth over Sam’s fork. “You’ve always been a romantic.”

Sam smiled at her and cut another piece. “Yes, I have.”

“Try a little piece,” Meg pushed. “Just a little. A little won’t hurt you.”

Sam hesitated and glanced at Castiel. Castiel nodded and watched as Sam cut a small sliver of meat and placed it in his mouth.

Meg’s voice changed from playful and false to cautious, and Castiel knew that for a moment they were outside of the game. “Good?”

Sam chewed and swallowed. “Actually, yes.”

Meg sighed in relief and settled back into her chair, beaming. Just like that, they were back in their roles. “Thank gosh. Mamma’s recipes have never been the easiest to follow.”

Sam fed her the rest of his meat, which Meg gladly accepted. When they were finished, Meg sighed happily and leaned back in her chair. “Shall we kill him now?”

“Actually, I have one more surprise,” Sam said. He nodded to Castiel. Castiel twisted to look in the direction of the counter and used his powers to move the needle onto the record player. It whirled to life, filling the small room with music.

Meg’s eyebrows wrinkled. “What?”

Sam stood and walked around to Meg’s side of the table. He held his hand out to Meg. “Dance with me?”

She huffed but took his hand and stood as music filtered through the room. _In the still of the night I held you, held you tight, ‘cause I love, love you so. Promise, I’ll never let you go, in the still of the night._

Meg giggled and allowed Sam to slowly lead her around the room as they swayed together. She pressed her face into his chest. “You’re a sap.”

Sam shushed her. “We’re still in the game.”

Meg raised her head to look up at him and quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Remember when we danced to this at our wedding?” Sam asked.

“Sometimes I think you wanted it to be in May just so we could use it,” Meg teased. She sighed dreamily and pressed her head back into his chest. She stayed like that until their small, swaying dance brought them to the other end of the table to stand between Castiel’s spread legs. The record player whirred in the background as the song finished. “We should do the dishes from dinner. You have a lot of work ahead of you, butchering this one.”

“In a minute,” Sam murmured. He bent over and kissed Meg gently, still holding onto her hands. Meg worked her fingers free and wound her arms around his neck as she kissed him back. It started out soft and gentle and chaste, with Sam simply moving his lips against hers.

Meg growled and tightened her hold on Sam’s neck. Castiel could hear her breathing getting heavier, and Sam’s as well, as Meg changed the kiss from gentle to demanding.

Evidently, angel blood and angel flesh did not hurt demons. Instead, it turned them on.

Castiel wasn’t sure if it was the power that was infused in his blood and flesh or the simple act of cannibalism that spurred Meg on. Either way, it made her cling to Sam harder than she ever had. She detached herself from his lips long enough to jump and wrap her legs around his waist, but returned to kissing him hungrily immediately after. A ripping sound echoed through the room as Meg tore at his shirt, sending the buttons scattering across the kitchen floor. Sam pulled at Meg’s dress, undoing the first few buttons.

Sam yelped when Meg bit his lip a little too hard. Fisting his hand in her hair, he jerked Meg’s head away from his lips. She smiled at him and darted her tongue out to catch the blood bubbling on his bottom lip.

“I want you,” she rasped. “I want to crawl inside of you and hollow you out and squat in there. I want you to crawl inside of me and devour _everything.”_

Castiel wasn’t sure if they were still playing a game or if Sam and Meg were just wrapped up in each other. He squirmed uncomfortably on the table. If the game was over, he wanted in. If it wasn’t, he wanted to remind them that he was still there.

Sam swung Meg around and deposited her on the table just as she managed to sweep his plate and silverware out the way. When she tried to kiss him again, Sam grabbed her wrists and forced her backward so her head bounced off of Castiel’s chest. He stretched her arms up, pinning them on either side of Castiel’s head, and pressed a lazy kiss to the side of her neck.

“Patience, darling,” Sam murmured.

Meg growled and tried to buck him off, but Sam merely held her in place until she stopped. She snarled when he ordered her to stay and reached under her dress to pull off the conservative underwear she wore before he draped himself back on top of her.

She gasped loudly as Sam roughly pushed into her, only taking time to pull his suit pants down to his thighs and ruck her dress up around her waist. The force of Sam’s thrusts sent her body sliding along Castiel’s, and he felt his cock stir at the friction. Meg groped with her hand until she found Castiel’s head and grabbed a fistful of his hair, small noises pouring from her mouth.

“Sam,” she gasped. “Sam, I think Dinner is enjoying the show.”

“Is he now?” Sam asked. Castiel watched as Sam pulled out of Meg and dragged her off the table by her hips. Castiel’s cock bobbed against his stomach, and he squirmed at the loss of Meg’s body on his. “Maybe we should give him a treat. After all, you said he was a good boy, and it would be a shame to send him to his death without a last bit of fun.”

Sam didn’t wait for Meg to answer. Instead, he flipped her over and forced her to bend over the table, one hand fisted in her hair. She managed to brace her hands on Castiel’s thighs and let out a small, pained sound as Sam roughly gripped her hair and forced her head down between Castiel’s legs.

Castiel moaned into the gag as Meg dragged her tongue over his cock, guided by Sam’s hand. Castiel knew that the angle was probably awkward for Sam, but he appreciated it, since he got to see Meg’s face. Her eyes screwed shut and her mouth opened slightly as Sam pushed back into her body, one hand fisted in her hair and the other on her back, keeping her pinned to the table. The force of his thrusts sent her body rocking forward, her tongue playing over Castiel’s shaft until Sam reached down to gently guide Castiel’s cock into Meg’s mouth.

Meg allowed Sam to force her head down into Castiel’s lap, and Castiel involuntarily bucked his hips up, grateful for her vessel’s lack of gag reflex. Sam held her head there as he fucked her, making Castiel’s cock slide slightly in her throat. Meg moaned around him, sending vibrations moving from the back of her throat down the length of him, and Castiel struggled against the ropes binding his hands together, suddenly not caring about the game.

Meg’s hand groped blindly along the table, stopping when it collided with Castiel’s, and laced their fingers together. Her grip was strong enough that he could feel the fragile bones in his fingers grinding together, but Castiel simply squeezed her hand back and thrust up into her warm, waiting mouth.

“I think he likes it,” Sam panted. “I think Dinner is really enjoying himself. Isn’t that nice, dear? Giving him a proper send off.”

Meg’s reply was muffled by the cock in her mouth, and cut off by a loud moan as Sam dropped his hand between her legs. His thrusts became more erratic, and Castiel could hear the soft smack of flesh meeting flesh over the whirring of the record player. Castiel began squirming on the table, suddenly nervous about having Meg’s teeth so close to such a tender part of his anatomy. But the motion only sent pleasure coursing through his body as his cock slipped in and out of Meg’s throat with small, wet sucking noises, and he could feel pressure building in his spine. Meg flicked her tongue against him in response, and when he looked down he could see her smiling around his cock.

Castiel let out a long, low moan around the gag as he came in her throat. He felt Meg swallowing around his cock, and she gasped in relief when Sam roughly yanked her up by her hair. Without Castiel’s cock in her mouth to muffle the sounds she made, Meg’s cries echoed in the small kitchen, each one increasingly louder until Sam pushed her face down into Castiel’s stomach.

Castiel could see her body shaking as she came. Her teeth sank into the soft skin of his stomach to muffle her cries, her teeth easily breaking the skin. Castiel jumped at the pain, but relaxed when Meg gently ran her tongue over the wounds, head limp near his bellybutton.

Sam followed a moment later, releasing his grip on Meg’s hair and sagging down on top of her on the table. The taller man’s head rested on Castiel’s chest, and his body kept Meg trapped between her two men.

She let Sam lay there for a heartbeat before she squirmed. “Sam, you’re heavy.”

“You’re a demon. You can take it,” Sam muttered. Castiel tried to speak through the gag, causing Sam to look up at him. “Sorry, Cas. Gimmie a second.”

Meg huffed. “You two are such saps. What was up with the record? And the dancing?”

Sam stood and stretched. “I was trying to be romantic.”

Meg snorted and pulled the gag out of Castiel’s mouth. He took in a deep breath, sighing in relief when Sam cut the ropes binding his ankles to his wrists. Even with his angelic healing, he would be sore for a few hours, and he wanted nothing more than a warm bath

Meg stayed slumped against Castiel, only moving to crawl further up on the table and rest her head on his chest. Sam reached down and pulled her dress back into place. Castiel allowed her to cuddle against him for a few more minutes, enjoying the feeling of Meg being gentle with him, before he gently nudged her. “We need to move.”

“I’m comfortable.”

“Dean will no doubt be back soon, and we still have to do the dishes from dinner,” Castiel told her. “Unless you want him to find out that you and Sam ate me.”

“I only had a bit,” Sam protested. Meg groaned but sat up and slid off the table.

“Did either of you have any idea that angel blood was apparently an aphrodisiac?” she asked. Sam and Castiel looked at each other and shook their heads. Meg made a small noise of surprise in the back of her throat.

“We should do this again for my birthday,” she said. “Castiel could eat me. Sam, you could cook me.”

“You don’t have a birthday,” Castiel pointed out as he gingerly got off the table and looked around. “Sam, where are my clothes?”

“We’ll make one up,” Meg said.

“They’re in the washer,” Sam interrupted. “I figured you’d want to take another shower after this. Meg and I will clean up if you wanna do that.”

Castiel nodded, wincing when the new skin of his arms tingled. “Thanks.”

Before he could leave, Meg grabbed him and stood on her tiptoes to gently press her lips to his. When she pulled away and looked at him, her eyes were uncharacteristically soft. “Thank you.”

“You had fun?” he asked. “Enjoyed it?”

She nodded. “You really do taste good.”

Sam came over and pecked Castiel on the cheek. “Go take a shower. You reek like blood.”

Meg looked over at Sam. “I cooked. You’re cleaning. I’m gonna grab a beer and get out of this clown costume.”

Sam and Castiel spoke in unison. “I think you look nice.”

Meg looked between her men, huffed, and left the room. Sam clapped Castiel on the shoulder.

“You did good, man. Now, go take a shower.”

Castiel nodded and left Sam to the dishes. He was extremely glad that Meg had liked her present and, if he were being honest with himself, he couldn’t wait for Meg’s made-up birthday.

He couldn’t wait to find out what she tasted like.


End file.
